<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dreamless by inquisitor_tohru</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438874">Dreamless</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru'>inquisitor_tohru</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Dragon Age: Inquisition</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Cadash-Centric (Dragon Age), Canon Disabled Character, Established Relationship, M/M, Minrathous (Dragon Age), Post-Canon, Post-Dragon Age: Inquisition - Trespasser DLC, Tevinter Culture and Customs, Worldbuilding</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 01:54:50</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,556</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27438874</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/inquisitor_tohru/pseuds/inquisitor_tohru</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Edric Cadash <i>did sleep,</i> obviously. It was just something that he preferred to do as little as possible.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Male Cadash/Dorian Pavus</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2020 A Paragon of Their Kind Dragon Age Dwarf Exchange</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dreamless</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightprelude/gifts">midnightprelude</a>.</li>



    </ul></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The best time to get to know any city was to go out long after dark, when the workers in the brothels retired to their sleeping cubicles, and the aristocratic patrons brought their merriment into the streets, trying not to cross paths with the lowly mages conjuring flame for the lamplights. Mages were a cut above the rest in Tevinter, Edric had known, but not all mages were born equal.</p><p>He felt more at home in the docks, quiet though they were at an hour past midnight. Being there reminded him of nights gone by in the Free Marches, with his Carta brothers and sisters. It distracted him from sleeping, and waking up to grieve the dreams he'd lost along with the Mark, and his arm. The docks were rough during the day, but there were fewer thugs at night - no one worth robbing, and the dockers would be at work in another couple of hours or so. That wasn't to say he hadn't spotted any of the usual shady characters lurking in the narrow streets, but they kept to themselves, content to simply negotiate around whatever rumours or promises had lured them here. A year or two ago, there'd been tales of a dreadful monster called the Cekorax looming down by the docks, but he'd been assured that particular horror was long gone. Still, it was best not to linger alone too long, for Minrathous had no shortage of unfortunate creatures, changed and rearranged by magic.</p><p>During the more reasonable hours (at least, depending on your definition of <em> reasonable), </em> Edric's favourite part of Minrathous was the market, though as an artificer he couldn't help but notice the fire hazard posed by hundreds of wooden stalls and warehouses all crammed together. Even so, the market was a marvel. There were street traders with all manner of precious gems and artifacts (some genuine, some decidedly not), food vendors selling dried fruits and vine leaves stuffed with rice and sweet peppers, and fishmongers with live fish swimming around in shallow basins carved in stone. Dorian had told him it was rare to eat a fish more than half an hour after its demise, though Edric suspected that may have been a slight exaggeration. He left the fish for today, instead purchasing some of the stuffed vine leaves before going on his way.</p><p>As a dwarf, he would never be considered a citizen of Tevinter, but he was regarded with some level of respectability. Leading the Inquisition before its disbandment and defeating an ancient darkspawn magister may have had a little to do with that, too. His reddish brown mullet and freckled cheeks might not have been so distinctive, but people tended to notice a dwarf with one arm and luminous green eyes. Fade-touched, Dagna had called them, rather poetically. To him, they were merely another reminder of what had been lost.</p><p>Edric ascended to the upper streets, paved in marble. He felt ill at ease, as if he ought not to be here in his old drakescale and leathers, but he wasn't sure that he'd have felt any better with the Ambassadoria in the city's subterranean dwarven embassy. He'd never felt any real affinity with the Stone, and when he recalled his past experiences underground, the word 'suffocating' came to mind. Plus, despite his impressive mane of hair, he couldn't really even grow a proper beard.</p><p>Yet as uncomfortable as the fancy upper streets of Minrathous made him feel, he'd never had cause to feel unwelcome when he visited Dorian's lavish apartments. He tucked the box of stuffed vine leaves beneath his arm as he rummaged around in his satchel, producing his own ornate key, and letting himself in. Dorian was calling upon Maevaris Tilani to discuss prospective legislation, which most likely also meant sipping expensive wine as they dragged half the magisterium through the mud, and the less said about the other half, the better. Meanwhile, Edric was left to entertain Dorian's visiting mother.</p><p>To be fair, Aquinea Thalrassian was not bad company, nor did she require much in the way of entertainment. Dorian might have inherited his father's physical features, but now Edric knew where he'd picked up that sardonic wit of his, along with the desire to devour every book he laid eyes on - or perhaps that was just a <em> mage </em> thing.</p><p>Under different circumstances, he'd even go so far as to say he enjoyed Aquinea's quiet but easy company. It was just that, <em> surprisingly, </em> he'd hauled himself from Starkhaven to Minrathous to spend time with Dorian and not with his <em> mother. </em></p><p>Aquinea reclined on the chaise lounge, reading and warming her hands with a cup of strong black tea. It was the first time Edric had seen her drink anything other than brandy or Antivan red wine (courtesy of Josephine Montilyet), but this was also the first time he'd seen her before noon. She normally made her appearances on an afternoon or evening, before heading to one of her friends' frequent soirees.</p><p>"There's still tea in the pot," she said, not bothering to look up from her book. A cursory glance at the spine suggested one of Varric's series, though he was woefully behind on his own reading. Edric preferred refreshing peppermint over black tea, but he appreciated the sentiment all the same. Maybe it would at least help him wake up a little after his impromptu tour of the city.</p><p>While nobody had been so <em> indelicate </em> (Dorian's own word, accompanied by a smirk) as to suggest anything <em> improper </em> (Edric's word, accompanied by wink), it was clear that Aquinea had her suspicions regarding their relationship. Perhaps her own experience of marriage had dispelled any of the more romantic illusions she might have had, or it could just have been that she didn't mind who her son was happy with, as long as he <em> was </em> happy.</p><p>"Thanks. Help yourself to the stuffed vine leaves." He gestured towards the box, setting it down next to what was probably the fanciest Orlesian teapot he'd ever seen. She arched a magnificent eyebrow.</p><p>"From Tullia?"</p><p>"Of course." Edric might not have been a local, but seeking out the best vendors was always one of his first priorities. And Tullia <em> was </em>one of the finest.</p><p>"Maybe one, then," she said, with a sly grin, as if she was letting him in on some great conspiracy, "I'm in need of a little comfort food after finishing this chapter. Though I daresay Dorian's need will be greater. Magisterium business can be <em> frightfully </em> dull." Edric chuckled.</p><p>"Between all the assassinations and duels, you mean?"</p><p>"Oh, even then. I haven't had a good duel in well over a decade. Why, did you witness one on your midnight jaunt?" Her tone was light enough, but Edric still felt a tightness in his chest. He also noticed that Aquinea said nothing of assassination attempts. Given Halward's fate, it wasn't especially surprising. Even if they'd despised one another, hatred could become its own kind of intimacy after so long together, and Edric didn't want to assume there'd been anything clear cut about their marriage. Relationships, even the <em> good </em> ones, were complicated. "At least he has dear Mae by his side to help shake things up a little. I always did like her." Edric smiled, remembering the last time he and Dorian had gone for drinks with Mae. At least, he remembered <em> parts </em>of it.</p><p>"That's certainly one way to put it." Aquinea had retired from her own position in the Magisterium not long after Dorian took his father's seat, though her continued interest in Tevinter's politics had not waned. It had been clever, really. Between ambitious altus competing over the empty seat, and established magisters with vested interests in which ambitious altus arse graced that particular seat, Dorian had a little more leeway than he might otherwise have had.</p><p>Edric had just bitten into a stuffed vine leaf when he heard Dorian come back, and hastily wiped the olive oil from his chin. Since they'd known one another, Dorian had seen him covered in bits of flesh and bone and darkspawn blood, but Edric would be damned before he was caught neglecting his table manners.</p><p>"What a day," he sighed, obviously about to drape himself onto the chaise lounge before realising it was already occupied. "Ah. Mother."</p><p>"Good morning to you, too," she said after an uncomfortable pause, setting her book down but showing no signs of budging, "I'm fine, by the way, thanks for asking." Dorian looked down, a little sheepish.</p><p>"I'm not <em> displeased, </em> I simply wasn't expecting you to still <em> be </em> here. Again, not displeased, simply surprised."</p><p>"If you were hoping for a little privacy, I can-"</p><p><em> "Mother." </em> Edric stifled a laugh. Humans could be so funny about sex - drunken orgies were all well and good, but Maker forbid a <em> parent </em> so much as suggesting such a thing. Dwarven families nattered on about bloodlines and noble hunters like nobody's business. Of course, he knew it wasn't <em> just </em> that. The combination of Dorian's special interest in the South and Edric's former position within the Inquisition kept most of the gossip at bay, but they still couldn't afford to be careless. They were able to trust Aquinea and the servants, but one could never be sure who was listening, or <em> how, </em> in a city bursting with magic. No matter how many wards a mage put up, there was always a risk of another dismantling them.</p><p>"I just don't want tedious talk of trade routes interrupting my reading," she said, smoothing her robe as she stood. She tucked her book under her arm, and Edric was amused to note that it was a new volume of <em> Swords and Shields. </em> "Don't worry, I won't do anything you wouldn't."</p><p>"That's not <em> particularly </em>reassuring," Dorian said, though he couldn't help smiling. Aquinea merely returned the smile before slipping out of the door. "I hope she didn't give you any trouble," he added, loud enough that she was surely still within earshot.</p><p>"She made me <em> tea. </em> Or asked the servants to, anyway. <em> Or </em> maybe she just decided she didn't need the whole pot."</p><p>"Oh, well then, you're practically family now." Dorian grinned as he heard the door shut, and flopped onto the chaise lounge.</p><p>"Please tell me we're not <em> actually </em> going to discuss trade routes." Dorian laughed, as carefree as anyone could be in Minrathous. Edric clambered onto the chaise lounge with far less grace than Dorian, settling in his lap. He wasn't foolish enough to expect anything <em> more </em> just now, but it was enough to feel the warmth of Dorian's body against his, to run his calloused fingers through silken black hair, threaded with silver.</p><p>"If we <em> were, </em> then I think you've well and truly steered us clear of that topic," Dorian murmured, discreetly sliding a hand beneath Edric's tunic, "and I missed you too much to be that cruel."</p><p>"You saw me <em> last night." </em></p><p>"Yet not this morning." Edric felt a pang of guilt. Dorian knew better than to be <em> offended </em> by his nighttime wanders, but that didn't mean he wasn't allowed to be disappointed when he woke up alone. Edric <em> did </em>sleep, obviously. It was just something that he preferred to do as little as possible, and a comfortable bed was conducive to that goal.</p><p>He shifted his weight, leaning back to rest his head against Dorian's chest, over his heart.</p><p>"Sleep still doesn't...feel right." It didn't really feel like an adequate description for what felt like the crushing weight of the Void. Perhaps this was what Sera meant, after the Fade, when she talked about the Nothing. But elves still dreamed. "I know it's ridiculous. I spent almost my entire life not dreaming. I'm- I should be <em>used</em> to it." He felt Dorian's fingers brushing through his hair with an almost unbearable lightness.</p><p>"No, it's not ridiculous. It's completely reasonable," Dorian said, pausing as he encountered a knot in Edric's hair, "to take something for granted for four years and have it taken from you...that's no small thing, Amatus."</p><p>"I'm sorry for leaving last night, if I worried you, or…you know." Dorian's chest gently rose and fell as he chuckled.</p><p>"I've seen you in action with that bow of yours, along with the occasional jar of bees, and my fragile ego <em> somehow </em> remains intact, so you can stop feeling <em> quite </em> so guilty." He sighed softly, hand still in his hair. "But I'd like to help, if I can. Whether that means staying up late to keep you company when you can't sleep, or whatever else you might need." Edric reached back to squeeze Dorian's hand, and tilted his head back to smile at him.</p><p>"Have I mentioned I love you?" Dorian gave him a sly grin.</p><p>"Perhaps once or twice, but it never hurts to be reminded. <em> I've </em> grown rather fond of you, Amatus." His nose bumped against Edric's as he leaned forward to kiss his forehead. "What do you normally do? At home, I mean."</p><p>"When I ought to be sleeping?" Edric thought about it, but he wasn't sure he'd really had a place he could call home in quite some time. He had an apartment not far from the Hanged Man in Kirkwall, which was about as far from the luxurious upper levels of Tevinter as one could get - not that he especially minded that. He'd spent his formative years slumming it, travelling via the tunnels and sewers across the Free Marches with little more than a threadbare sleeping bag and the clothes on his back.</p><p>But his Carta brethren had made it feel like home, larking about by the campfires while whoever drew the shortest straw that evening attempted to produce something edible with dried meat and mystery mushrooms. His apartment just felt empty. No, the last time he'd felt at <em> home </em> had been at Skyhold, and not because he needed an ancient fortress to feel comfortable or safe. It was the people who made it feel like a home, like all of them were a part of something <em> bigger. </em></p><p>"The same, I suppose." It wasn't that he didn't think Dorian couldn't empathise with the notion of feeling like he didn't belong, like a stranger in his own home, because of <em> course </em> he could. It was just that Edric didn't know how to explain it when the words kept catching in his throat. He wouldn't have lasted long in the Carta if he'd been known for being loose-lipped, but he'd never been tight-lipped outside of what was strictly business. That was new to him, and he didn't care for it. He didn't <em> want </em>to hide anything.</p><p>"Ah. I was going to say that...well, if it would make you more comfortable, I don't mind you bringing a few personal items here." This was not a precursor to an invitation to move in, because that was one of the few things Dorian was unable to offer him, so long as they remained in Tevinter. The renewed realisation stung more than he'd expected, but he took comfort in knowing just how much it meant that Dorian was letting him know, without a shadow of doubt, that he had a place here.</p><p>"Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that." One day, perhaps, things would be different. Until then, he could at least dream when he was awake.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>